


Tomato Soup

by MommyMortem



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Aged-Up Morty Smith, Comfort Food, Comfort No Hurt, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Implied Relationships, M/M, Praise, Sick Character, Sick Fic, The Dick known as Rick is Sick, Tomato soup without the chunks bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:48:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26404501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MommyMortem/pseuds/MommyMortem
Summary: Rick catches an alien flu and realizes too late what it is. Unable to make a vaccine for it through his dazed and incoherent mind, Rick is forced to ride it out for a couple days with Morty by his side.Morty discovers Rick is more vulnerable and open when he’s hopelessly sick.
Relationships: Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith
Comments: 8
Kudos: 83





	Tomato Soup

Morty felt somewhat guilty at how much he enjoyed seeing his grandpa sick.

_Somewhat_.

After accidentally picking up an alien flu from the their last adventure, Rick had gradually felt worse and worse, realizing too late it wasn’t alcohol that made his head throb and his thoughts cloudy. By the time he figured out why his body ached more than usual, Rick was too tired to conjure up a vaccine for himself, in disbelief that a simple space flu could take down _the_ Rick Sanchez.

Morty remembered rolling his eyes at that, brushing off the older man for being dramatic. But he discovered that Rick _wasn’t_ being dramatic. The flu had completely knocked Rick off his feet for the next couple days.

So here they were, day three of Rick and Morty doing nothing but watching inter-dimensional tv together like a semi-normal family. Morty was squished against one side of the couch, his lap adorned with Rick’s long legs propped over his thighs. Rick was lying on his side, eyes droopy and emptily taking in the contents before him with a sleepy blinks, deep and slow breaths leaving him. 

Morty enjoyed how docile and unproblematic Rick was when he was sick because he’d never experienced this side of the genius. Rick didn’t have the energy to spout insults at Morty, nor the drive to force the boy alongside him on another unexplained, traumatic adventure. The boy brushed his hand across Rick’s clothed calf, noticing the unnaturally high amount of heat radiating from beneath his brown slacks. 

“H-Hey Rick? You feel really hot,” Morty commented after a moment of thought, head turning to naturally wait for Rick’s solution like he had all these years.

After a couple seconds, Rick realized he was being talked at. He tilted his head away from the direction of the tv to glance at the boy, a sloppy grin slowly rising across his face. Those familiar yellowed teeth unraveled themselves from underneath Rick’s chapped lips. “Hell yeah babbyyy, hot as Satan’s ass crack up in here since 1940. Your grandpa’s a-always been a stud.” Rick emphasized his point by licking his pinkie finger and pressing it against his own hip, making an exaggerated ‘tsss’ sound. 

Morty groaned at him, slapping a hand on his forehead in a deadpan. He lifted his grandpa’s feet off his lap to stand up, tugging Rick into a sitting position by his lanky arms and helping him slip out of his white lab coat. Morty struggled to pull off the sleeves of the coat, Rick’s limp arms refusing to aid his task. After what seemed like several minutes, Morty wiped a slight layer of sweat that covered his forehead, finally tossing the lab coat to the floor. 

“W-When mom comes back, I’ll ask her to m-m-make you soup or something. Okay Rick?” Morty added softly when Rick’s eyes weren’t focused on him, head bobbing backwards like a newborn giraffe. He helped the sick scientist lay back on the couch with a soft plop against the couch pillows. 

“C-could you be a good boy and get grandpa his..his flask from my garage Morty?” Rick asked, frown on his face when the boy quickly declined.

“No way, Rick. I-it’s not good to drink alcohol with cold medicine, I think.” 

Rick scoffed despite his fever, turning on his side slowly and crossing his arms over his chest. He hardly looked intimidating this way with his flushed cheeks and reddened nose.

“Fine but that’s not what I wanted,” Rick practically pouted out in a huff. “And who’s idea was it to give me _human_ medicine anyhow? Th-that shit’s like candy compared to the vaccine I would’ve made.” He bragged.

Morty didn’t reply, retreating to his place on the couch under Rick’s feet, absentmindedly tracing the sliver of naked skin along his ankle between his socks and pant leg as he focused his attention back on the tv in front of him. Ball Fondlers was on. 

Rick seemed exhausted now, ready for his fifth nap of the day. He had one eye open, refusing to allow sleep to take him just yet.

“W-When your mom was younger I used to make her soup when she got the flu.” Rick said suddenly, making Morty turn his head to blink at the seemingly delusional old man. “She liked tomato soup. But-but not that shit with the chunks of tomatoes in it. The smoooooth one. You know that one, Morty?”

Morty pursed his lips, not knowing if the question directed at him was rhetorical. So he just combatted it with his own question: “Why didn’t you just-just come up with a vaccine for her or, um, something?”

Rick hummed like he was pondering the question, his eyes closed as he spoke lazily. “Because she liked it when I took the time to make her soup rather than a vaccine. She told me vaccines didn’t have any love in them, but soup did. I-I dunno. Kids are weird Morty. You’re weird.”

“I’m not the weird one,” Morty argued, his pointed gaze missed by Rick. “A-and I’m not a kid anymore, I’m 20!”

The way Rick’s face was completely relaxed — not a furrow in sight — made Morty pause and stare, forgetting to breathe. The older man’s lips were slightly parted like this, chest rising and falling shallowly. Morty squeezed Rick’s calf gingerly, a small swell of adoration and love weighing on his chest. 

Rick was actually vulnerable. Genuinely and completely vulnerable right now.

Morty promised himself he would do everything in his power to protect Rick when he was like this. Morty felt powerful. And he liked it. Liked being in control — however superficial that control was right now — it didn’t matter to Morty. 

Carefully, like was ready to get yelled at, Morty leaned over and took one of Rick’s hands, the gray skin hot to the touch. The boy caressed the skin there with unhidden affection, thumb brushing across that wrinkled hand. He then pressed a kiss on those thin fingers, fire burning in his gut like Morty were honoring a pharaoh. A divine being. A _god_.

When the front door opened suddenly, Morty leaned away from Rick like he had gotten tasered, body twisting to see who was at the door. 

Beth shuffled her hands between bags of groceries and her car keys, all while trying not to contaminate the objects with her horse-bloodied scrubs. When she saw Morty she perked up.

“Hey sweetie, I came on my lunch break to check on your grandpa. How’s he doing?” She asked while closing the door to the house with one of her feet, setting the bags down on the floor for Morty to no doubt pick up and put away. 

“H-he’s okay, mom.” Morty replied, hands resting on Rick’s legs. 

Beth walked over to Rick’s sleeping form. 

Morty noticed how Rick never snored in his sleep. That is, until today. He wondered if that was because the scientist was never able to let his guard down unless he was forced to do so. He silently thanked this alien flu for granting them both the opportunity for some true down time. No adventures. Just relaxation. They didn’t need some alien spa machine to do that for them, apparently. 

Beth brushed her hand over Rick’s forehead, sighing softly as she spoke to herself. “Dad, you have to take better care of yourself.” She whispered before removing her hand and looking at Morty. “I’ll make him some tomato soup, okay? Make sure he eats it when he wakes up. Heat it up in the microwave if you need to.”

Morty nodded, hand coming out to grab Beth before she could dash to the kitchen. She stilled at his hand, pausing to look at him.  


”Um..M-Make sure it’s the one without any chunks.”  


**Author's Note:**

> Fuck your chicken noodle soup it’s all about that smoooooth tomato soup


End file.
